Hunting Beauty (Possessing Beauty 4)

A knockout, like Anya was now. Golden skin, long luxurious chestnut hair, and thin hips. Okay, I had her beat in the curves department by a long shot, but still — pale skin and jet black hair wasn’t exactly the fairy tale image of the princess. She was.

I sighed as I joined her on the rock, laying out and letting the sun warm us. Dainty skin or not, we were basically totally under tree cover here. The sun filtered down through leafy greenery, warming just enough to get the chill of the mountain stream pool off our skin.

“We should probably head back soon,” she sighed. “Before they send a search party for you and arrest me for kidnapping you.”

“I wouldn’t want to be kidnapped by anyone else.”

She laughed. “Well, besides, you’ve got that dress fitting tonight for that ball.”

I groaned. “Do not remind me.”

“Hey, princess duties. Besides, it’s my job to remind you. Literally.”

“It’s going to be stupid.”

“It’s going to be fun! A ball, at your uncle’s palace in Avlion? Dude, fancy dresses, a gorgeous castle, lots of cute single guys, and duh, your cousins?”

I grinned, thinking of Isla, Imogen, and Ilana. Okay, it as going to be great to see them, but the rest of it could go stuff itself.

“Princes, Anya. They’re the worst.”

“There are some hot princes out there, for the record, some of which are going to that ball I hear.”

“Like?”

“Prince Magnus, of Zale?”

I made a face. “Uh, manwhore much?”

“Could be what you need?”

I blushed as she stuck her tongue out at me.

“There’s the Charming brothers?”

I bit my lip. “Okay, granted, hot.”

“See?”

“But, eh, not my type.”

“You have no type. Hence being eighteen and a virgin.”

“No thanks to you!”

She laughed. “Ooo, there’s Prince Logan”

My brow went up. “The scary dude from Torsund?”

She grinned. “Be honest, he is kinda hot.”

“But terrifying.”

Anya laughed. “But definitely terrifying.”

“Ugh, okay fine. Dress fitting it is.”

Anya jumped up and dove into the water coming up shrieking.

“Fuck that’s cold. Okay, that was my last one. I’m going to go dry off and pee and put some clothes on.”

“Yeah, same.”

I didn’t jump in, I just jumped off onto the dirt and moss of the tree-line and grabbed my discarded sun dress. My skin was basically dry at that point, so I figured I’d just just take the damp underwear off and wear the dress home to the palace.

I ducked into the woods and behind a tree and slipped my bra off. I shivered a little, slipping the soaking wet panties down my legs and kicking them off. It’s a weird feeling being naked in the woods, but there was something so fun about it. And for second, I could pretend I wasn’t Princess Adele of Berne and just pretend I was some forest person living here in the trees. I could smell the scent of the woods, and feel the moss and the leaves beneath my bare feet. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the clean, fresh air.

There was a breeze suddenly, and my daydreaming was cut short by my sundress suddenly blowing from my fingers. I cursed and raced after it, my bare feet padding over the mossy ground as I ducked behind another tree and finally caught it with my toe.

“Stupid dress,” I muttered, sighing and standing as I yanked it off the ground and—

And I froze.

I would have screamed, but I couldn’t, not with my heart in my throat like that.

The man was three feet from me, and positively oozing raw masculinity. He towered over me, his dark eyes burning right into mine, his stubbled jaw tight, and his bare chest heaving and sweaty. He was like a hero from a romance book stepping right off the pages. He was the rough, masculine man from my most private dreams, come to life.

And here I was three feet from him, completely naked with just a sundress in my hands, barely covering me.

The camouflage pants he wore, along with the rifle slung over his shoulder and the camo pack on his back made him military without a doubt. For a second, I almost screamed again, thinking he might be one of the separatist fighters that had taken to the hills on the outskirts of Berne. But my eyes landed on the patch on his pack, the rough seal of Berne. Which meant he was our soldier — a soldier in my father’s royal guard.

I should have screamed.

I should have ran.

I should have gotten as far away from the strange, gorgeous woodsman as quickly as I could.

…What I shouldn’t have done was stay right where I was. What I shouldn’t have done was let my eyes just fall into his.

And what I definitely shouldn’t have done, there in those woods all alone with him, was get incredibly turned on.

Chapter 2

Damon

She was perfect.

Sweet, young, flawless, innocent perfection. Porcelain skin, dark, jet black hair like mine, bee-stung lips, and striking blue eyes. But then, you can be sure my gaze didn’t stop there — not with a girl as gorgeous as that standing there utterly naked.